Sherlock Ficlets
by medcat
Summary: Two humorous ficlets by Karasik, whose "Household Experiments" I've translated and posted here before. The author, once again, has kindly granted me permission to translate and post. The ficlets are "A Session of Psychoanalysis" and "Childhood Games".
1. A Session of Psychoanalysis

"Sherlock...Sometimes, he is absolutely unbearable. No, of course, I have nothing against a good chase and even against a shoot-out...but not at three in the morning! And how can one live with a person who wakes one up in the middle of the night by pouring a cup of cold water on one's head? And I still have to sleep in that bed later! How come I still put up with all this?"

John's conversation partner seemed to nod in understanding.

"And what about yesterday? Yesterday, he once again pinched my laptop, hacked my blog and answered all the comments, pretending to be me! And he read our email exchange with Sergeant Donovan, where we were discussing the recipe for blackberry tarts! I mean, that's sacred! No, I understand everything, of course, but there have to be limits somewhere! Rules, maybe." John looked over at his conversation partner, silently seeking support.

"Yes, I've already gotten used to him playing his violin all night long, but no! Now he plays right outside the door to my room! _My_ room! Yesterday, because of this nighttime 'serenade', I couldn't sleep half the night! How can one continue living like that? What? Maybe he was trying to tell me something by doing that? Interesting...And what would he be wanting to tell me? No, no, definitely, it's time to make some changes," John paused. His conversation partner remained soothingly silent.

"And these chemical flasks in the kitchen! I'm even afraid to cook there, one never knows when one might get some chemical reagent instead of salt! Last week, I discovered a pair of live goldfish in the teakettle. Why would Sherlock need goldfish? What, does he need...uh...a pet, to distract him from boredom? Shall I buy him...what? Pet fish? I doubt they'd fare any better than the two I discovered in the teakettle. That was the last time I saw them. A guinea pig? I doubt it'd be able to stay alive any longer than the fishes. A cat? Perhaps a cat would suit him. But even I myself am beginning to feel like his pet! Like a guinea pig! He conducts experiments upon me, tests his theories, what next? What if I share the fate of the unfortunate fishes."

"John."

"What, Sherlock?" the doctor reluctantly broke off his sob story.

"Take my card."

"What are you on about?"

"Credit card. Use mine."

"Umm, what for?"

"Apparently, you are broke. You don't even have money to pay for a therapy session."

"And how did you deduce that?"

"Well, that wasn't difficult, given the fact that you are talking to the head in the fridge."

(author: Karasik; from snapetales dot com)


	2. Children's Games

"Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock," Mrs Hudson threw up her hands. "When _will_ you grow up? Men are just like children. My husband was just like that, too!"

John has already stopped being surprised by the comparison of his eccentric flatmate with the executed by the electric chair for unknown to Watson crimes Mrs Hudson's late husband and slowly moved his gaze onto the excitedly crawling on the floor Sherlock, who was, for some reason, assembling a toy railroad.

Mrs Hudson gazed at the detective, who was puffing hard in concentration, and left to attend to her other landlady duties.

"Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock," John repeated with a crooked grin, "why did you enter a second childhood all of a sudden? Did you run out of bullets or simply decided to have mercy upon our unfortunate wall?"

"Don't interfere, John," attaching another piece, Sherlock said dismissively. "On this assembly, depends..."

"Someone's alibi," John resignedly finished the sentence, imagining how on this quiet Saturday night he'll have to run somewhere and chase someone down, as soon as Sherlock proves whatever it is he intends to prove. "Maybe it's simply because you had wanted to be a train driver when you were little?" snorted John.

"John," Sherlock immediately glared daggers at his flatmate. "Mycroft has, most likely, enlightened you as to what my childhood fantasies had been."

"Oh yes, a pirate. Of course, it would have been a pirate," suppressing a smile with an effort, muttered John. "I do wonder who Mycroft wanted to become?" John thought all of a sudden, imagining Holmes the senior in his childhood years: somehow, in his imagination, even mini-Mycroft never let go of his favourite umbrella.

"Oh, Mycroft..." Sherlock snorted, "Mycroft, as I recall, had always wanted to become some kind of...nanny."

"Nanny?" John goggled at the detective, thinking if he hadn't misheard.

"Yes, he kept running about the house with his umbrella open, yelling, 'Winds of change, winds of change!'"

"Well, his dream did come true, in part," John muttered aside, imagining Sherlock's brother in the role of the character from the well-known children's fairy tale. "Be careful what you wish for, the wishes tend to come true in the most unpredictable ways."


End file.
